


What it means to chill.

by ahausonfire (thisiswherethefishlives)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: But William Poindexter Isn't Much Better, Derek "Nursey" Nurse is Unchill, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 15:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9908024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisiswherethefishlives/pseuds/ahausonfire
Summary: It’s embarrassing, is what it is - this tingling set of nerves that’s taken up under Will’s skin that won’t go away. It just gets worse with every appraising glance and knowing smile that’s shot his way, and the more dramatic part of Will just wants to die in a corner… because this isn’t what he does.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this (amazing) post by chillwhiskey , that I ever-so-rudely co-opted with the idea that maybe Dex isn’t prepared to see himself through the lens of Nursey’s camera.

* * *

It’s embarrassing, is what it is - this tingling set of nerves that’s taken up under Will’s skin that won’t go away. It just gets worse with every appraising glance and knowing smile that’s shot his way, and the more dramatic part of Will just wants to die in a corner… because this isn’t what he does.

When Nursey had first approached asking for a favor, Will had been… apprehensive. A better word for it would be incredulous (because Will would never, ever, in a million years have thought that Nurse would need help with an art project), but Will’s never been one for words. Not like Nursey. The _bastard_. So, yeah. Will had been apprehensive, and clearly he should have listened to his gut.

After all, Nursey had been a little too ‘chill’ about which one of his projects would be on display. He had insisted that he didn’t know, that it wasn’t his choice to make (he spouted some bullshit about the importance of the muse and the role of the ‘establishment’), but as more and more people start to stare, Will loses the war against the churning feeling in his gut that tells him that he’s been played.

It feels like- _well_ , it doesn’t feel good. It feels like betrayal, and it feels a bit like he’s been punched in the chest, and maybe it feels a little like Will is going to throw up… because they were supposed to be friends… and Nurse had promised - _promised_ \- that the team wouldn’t see the pictures. Because Will had been doing him a favor (flowers in his hair and gold-leaf sprinkled all over) and Nurse had promised - _pinky promised_ \- that no one would see the project aside from his teacher.

But now he’s in the middle of a photography exhibit, and strangers are smiling at him (strangers don’t smile at Will, not like this - not the way strangers smile at Nursey) and there’s a _goddamn crowd_ over by where Nursey’d said he’d been stationed… and Will can’t turn back, because Lardo’s got him by one arm and Bitty’s got him by the other, and they’re chirping each other without a care in the world… and it feels like he’s trapped.

He’s totally trapped (Lardo’s grip is harder than diamonds, and when Will subtly tried to scan for exits she ‘accidentally’ kicked him in the shin… _twice_ ). How he managed to get manhandled by the two tiniest people on the team, he’ll never know, but Bitty and Lardo manage to herd him through the crowd (and the crowd’s all smiling… it’s weird, and it makes Will’s skin crawl) until he’s parked in front of an endcap labeled _Derek M. Nurse_ (the bastard).

It takes two more kicks to the shin before Will can tear his eyes from the placard with Nurse’s name (it’s classy, if nothing else - bold font against a crisp white background… Andover probably had an entire class dedicated to the importance of branding through placard and business card design), but it’s immediately clear that Nursey had lied. Because it only takes one glance for Will to confirm that - out of an entire semester’s worth of photography projects - the only fucking subject that made it to the showcase was Will.

Will with flowers in his hair (daisies and forget-me-nots and queen anne’s lace) and gold dusted over his freckles (he can still remember how it had felt to have Nurse up in his face, breath warm as it fanned over Will’s cheeks, the brush a soft caress as Nursey applied the gold leaf where he wanted) and his skin bared for all to see (” _C’mon, Dexey, just take your shirt off for the last set of shots - Ms. Clare is like… 90 years old - a little flash of that Irish skin will do my grade wonders.”_ ).

In one picture he’s spread out on the quad - the green of the grass bright against his hair and the white of his shoulders.

In another, the forget-me-nots that Nurse nestled in his hair like a crown are an exact match for the color of Nurse’s sheets beneath him. The picture’s so clear that you can see how soft the sheets are. They’re expensive. Lived in, with Will in the center, eyes closed and flowers in his hair.

Picture after picture of Will. Soft and vulnerable. Hard and challenging. Mouth open in one where Nursey had obviously caught him napping, his eyelashes long and flecked with gold… it makes Will want to run.

S _hit_ , he wants to run so bad, because he’s not prepared to face what Nurse had captured. It’s more than Will looking like a nymph (as the woman next to him in the crowd helpfully murmurs to her friend - it’s a good term - Will would never have thought of it himself) and it’s more than Will’s embarrassment at being front and center for everyone to see.

No, it’s panic, because Will’s pretty sure that somewhere along the line he fell in love with _Derek Malik Nurse_ \- pretentious hipster rich kid that he is - and it’s obvious in every single fucking frame.

He wants to _run_ … so, he does.

This time they let him. There’s no more kicking to the shins or disapproving glances or tight little hands clutching at his arms. There’s just the panicked pounding of his heart and the distinct urge to _flee_. So… he does. He runs back to the dorms, but when he gets to the front doors it doesn’t feel like he’s gone far enough. He’s wearing his nice loafers and the khakis that Nursey had commented on that one time (” _Dayum, Poindexter - who are you trying to hook tonight with your ass looking like that in those pants?”_ )… it’s not exactly workout gear… but he keeps running.

He’ll have blisters in the morning, but there’s something deep down in his gut that makes him run despite it all.

He’s probably a mile past the haus when “Baby Got Back” starts blasting from his pocket. There’s a part of Will - the tiny part that veers towards flight rather than fight - the part that he’s been listening to throughout his escape - that makes him want to ignore his phone. Problem is… he’s never been one to avoid a fight… so, he doesn’t.

“ _I cannot believe you did that to me_.”

There’s a heavy pause, but then Nursey’s sighing on the other end of the line, and a little piece of Will’s heart just crumbles.

“Look, I think we need to talk,” Nurse starts, and he’s got his soothing voice on, which makes Will want to punch something, because he’s not some wild animal to be soothed. “Can you meet me somewhere?”

For a moment, a _long_ moment, Will doesn’t want to answer. It would be easier, that rabbit part of his brain insists, to just avoid it all… left fist clenched in his pocket, Will picks the fight instead.

“I’m out past the old barn… if you want, I can meet you at the haus-”

“No. Look, I’m going to come get you. Just… just meet me by the pond, okay?”

Nursey’s voice sounds strained now, that soft, calming edge fraying like Will’s nerves, and as much as Will wants to punish Nurse for all this… there’s a bigger part of his heart that just wants to be around Nurse all the time, if only to catch him when he smiles… and that kind of thinking makes it easy for Will to give in.

“Yeah, man. I’ll be there.”

They hang up after that, and it’s a quick walk to the pond from there. Nursey shows up ten minutes later in one of the clunkers that’s always parked in front of the lax house (Will doesn’t even want to know what kind of favors Nurse called in for that), and for the first time since Will saw those pictures, it all feels real.

It feels like he’s about to lose his best friend.

And it feels like he’s going to lose half of his heart (the better half, though he’d never say it out loud).

And maybe it feels like the beginning of the end.

But then Nurse is standing in front of him, his eyes sad and his mouth in a tight line, and neither of them is saying anything. There are crickets chirping in the background, and it’s dark, and if he was here with anyone else it would be romantic. Instead, it feels like Will’s on the verge of a breakdown, and for once Nursey doesn’t look any better.

“So… awkward story,” Nurse laughs, but it doesn’t sound real. It sounds forced, and that alone has Will wanting to fucking die. “I, uh - I didn’t realize that Ms. Clare had final say on the pictures. I didn’t know that she picked that project… I would have told you first, Dex. I _need_ you to believe that - I didn’t know.”

Nurse stops after that. It’s a gap in conversation that Will should fill. It’s basic Social Interaction 101… but he’s never been great at that kind of shit. That’s always been Nursey’s thing, so Will sticks with what he knows instead, and he doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes on his shoes and his fists in his pockets, and he focuses on not crying… or screaming… or punching Nurse in his goddamn gorgeous face… honestly, he’s spread a little too thin to be worried about carrying a conversation, so it’s a relief when Nurse picks back up and keeps talking.

“Yeah. Probably _more_ awkward, but the reason it took me so long to find you is because I had to explain to everyone why my ‘boyfriend’ took off. Because - _apparently_ \- it’s super fucking obvious that I’m super fucking in love with you, just from looking at those pictures… and I’m sorry that it freaked you out.”

It takes two beats for Nursey’s words to sink in, and even then it’s a struggle for Will to tear his eyes from the stitching along the top of his shoes… because that’s not what he expected to hear at all.

“That’s… um, that’s not what I got from those pictures. At all.”

Nursey’s face just… shit, it crumbles at that, and if he feels a fraction of what Will had felt back in the student gallery (trapped, exposed, rubbed raw and tender)… well, if he feels any of that, it’s up to Will to fix it.

“I - uh. I ran because I thought you knew… I thought you saw what _I_ saw - what _everyone else_ saw.”

There’s more to say, but it gets stuck in his throat, trapped there like every secret he’s ever held - guilty and too tender to bear being exposed - but then Will looks at Nurse. _Really_ looks at him, at the way that Nurse carries his hope in his eyes, and the way that he’s bitten his lips to shit, and just like that the knot of words and half-truths and denial comes undone.

“I’m kind of in love with you. Have been for awhile… and, Nurse, I don’t take shirtless pictures for just anyone. And I don’t want to be around just anyone all the time. People suck… I mean, _most_ people suck, but you’re kind of the best person I know, and you drive me crazy, and I love it. And… when I saw those pictures, it was the clearest thing, because that’s not how you look at a friend, Nurse.

“I don’t look at you like you’re a friend, because you became a lot more than a friend to me a long time ago.”

It honestly feels like he’s been talking for hours, even though he logically knows it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes… but Will’s never been this honest. He’s never had to _be_ this honest, but there’s a soft smile growing on Nursey’s face, and they’re leaning closer like it’s the most natural thing in the world. There are large hands - strong and capable and gorgeous - on either side of his face, and everything that Will has ever known narrows down to Derek Malik Nurse and the weight of the moment.

“Dex… I’m gonna kiss you now, if it’s okay.”

There’s a question in Nursey’s voice, but as far as Will’s concerned, there’s no other option.

Slowly, Will pushes forward until their lips brush together, and it’s good. It’s the kind of good that you feel in your bones - satisfying and electric and grounding all at once.

That fight or flight reflex that’s always been at war at the heart of him… it settles down, and for the first time (with Nursey’s hands in his hair and Nursey’s lips on his lips and the realization that maybe Nursey belongs to Will as much as Will’s always belonged to Nursey) Will understands what it means to chill.


End file.
